The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1887-04-23
SOME FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF
ENGLAND.
BY OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.

BY OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.
Here are some of my first impressions
of England as seen from the carriage and
from the cars How very English L re-
call Birket Fosters Pictures of English
Landscape, beautiful, poetical series of
views, but hardly more poetical than the
reality. How thoroughly England is
groomed! Our New England out-of-
doors landscape often looks as if it had
just got out of bed, and had not finished
its toilet The glowing green of every
thing strikes me; green hedges in place
of our rail fences; always ugly and our
rude stone walls, which are not wanting
in certain look of fitness approaching
to comeliness, and are really picturesque
when lichen coated, but poor features of
landscape as compared to these univers-
al hedges. L am disappointed in the
trees, so far: | have not seen one large
tree as yet Most of the trees are of very
moderate dimensions, feathered all the
way up their long slender trunks, with
a lop sided mop of leaves at the top, like
wig which has slipped awry. trust that
1 am not finding everything couleur de
rose; but certainly do find the cheeks of
children and young persons of such bril-
liant rosy hue as [ do not remember that
[ have ever seen before. am almost
ready to think this and that child's face
has been colored from pink saucer. If
the Saxon youth, exposed for sale at
Rome in the days of Pope Gregory the
Great, had compilations like these chill
dren, no wonder that the pontiff exclaim-
ed, Not A1agli, but AngeEf! All this may
sound little extravaganza, but am giving
my impressions without any intentional
exaggeration. How far these first im-
pressions may be modified by after ex-
periences there will be time enough
to find out and to tell. It is better to set
them down at once just as they are. A
first impression is one never to be repeat
ed; the second look will see much that
was not noticed, but it will not repro
duce the sharp lines of the first proof,
which is always interesting, no matter
what the eye or the mind fixes upon. II
see men as trees walking" That first ex-
perience could not be mended. When
Dickens landed in Boston, be was struck
with the brightness of all the objects he
saw, buildings, signs, and so forth. When
I landed in Liverpool, everything looked
very dark, very dingy, very massive in
the streets drove through. So in Lon
don, but in a week it all seemed natural
enough.
The afternoon tea is almost neces-
Sity Id London life. It Is considered
useful as ga pick me up" and it serves
an admirable purpose in the social sys-
ten. 1t costs the household hardly any
trouble or expense. 1t brings people to-
gether in the easiest possible way, for
ten minutes or an hour, just as their en-
gagements or fancies may settle it. A
cup of tea at the right moment does for
the virtuous reveler all that Falstaff
claims for good sherris- sack, or at least
the first half of its "two-fold operation
at ascends me into the brain; dries me
there all the foolish and dull and crudy
vapors which environ it; makes it appre
hensive, quick, forgetive, full of nimble,
fiery and delectable shapes, which deliv-
cred over to the voice, the tongue, which
is the birth, becomes excellent wit"
But it must have the right brain to
work upon, and doubt if there is any
brain to which it is SO congenial and
from which it brings SO much as that of
a frst-rate London old lady. 1 came
away from the great city with the feeling
that this most complex product of civiliz-
alton was nowhere else developed to such
perfection. The octogenarian Londoness
has been in society let us say the high
est society - all her days. She is as
tough as an old macaw, or she would not
have lasted so long. She has seen and
talked with all the celebrities of three
generations, all the beauties OF at least
half dozen decades. Her wits have
been kept bright by constant use, and as
she is free OF speech it requires some
courage to face her. Yet nobody can be
more agreeable, even to young persons,
than one of these precious old dowagers.
A great beauty Is almost certainly think
ing how she looks while one is talking
with her; an authoress is waiting to have
one praise her book; but grand old
lady who loves London society, who
lives in it, who understands young peo-
pie and all sorts Of people, with her high
colored recollections of the past and her
grand-maternal interests in the new gem
GRAFTON, is the best of companions, espe-
cially over a cup of tea just strong
enough to stir up her talking ganglions.
Atlantic Monthly.